I Should Have Noticed
by SamichMachine
Summary: Bull gets knocked flat on his ass by a Giant. Dorian freaks out a little bit. And by a little bit, I mean he thought of it during sex and it totally freaked him out a lot. Or after sex. Whatever. I tried.


Dorian hadn't been paying attention. He should have been, should have been focused on the one Maker-forsaken task he was assigned, but he hadn't. He'd been distracted, instead. From behind them, he could hear footsteps, and not the friendly sort. It sounded like a group of people running from afar, and then he heard one of them shout something or other about stopping the Inquisitor. Templars, probably. Instantly, he'd set up a barrier, hoping to hold their forces back to they could deal with the behemoth and slip out of there unnoticed.

The Inquisitor had been busy; a whirl of blades dancing between the giant's feet, Cole at their side. The two of them doing some form of intricate dance he'd never quite understand. Bull was their own form of beast, however, hacking and slashing and bloodying the giant until it looked absolutely pained, taking the worst of the hits and shrugging them off as if they were nothing.

He swore when he heard the tell-tale signs of the Templars getting too close, and called out a warning to his companions. The Inquisitor and Cole shared a glance, then darted away, suddenly invisible. Rogues. A whisper hit his ear; their leader's voice promising that they would be back in a moment– they'd deal with the raiders while Dorian and Bull dealt with the Giant. The creature was defeated; lashing out blindly in a haze of confusion and pain, and those movements caused more blood loss, resulting in even more sluggishness. He nodded in assurance, but wasn't even sure if their leader could see him anymore.

He turned– just for a moment. Just to make sure Cole and the Inquisitor were handling them. And that was the moment he'd missed everything. When he'd spun back around, Bull was on the ground, unconscious and bleeding.

Dorian froze, blood running cold. For a moment, he didn't know what to do. Bull was down. The Iron Bull had been knocked to the ground. And that more than called for a pause. The Qunari had lost an eye in battle, but, from the stories he'd told, he never stopped once, even then. Now, he was unconscious and bleeding, face far too lax.

A cry of the other's name was ripped from his throat without the mage fully being aware of it, fear rippling through the words and plain to see on his face. If the Bull was awake– if he was conscious, be probably would have teased him. Something about a little blood scaring a pampered 'Vint. But there was no joke, not this time. Instead, there was silence, until the Giant made to hurl a boulder at Dorian.

All of his magic surged forth at once, creating a barrier between him and the creature, and then he slammed blow after blow at the Giant. Dorian dogged, jumped, moved, as the bumbling beast attempted to swat him away like a fly, but to no avail. Finally, Dorian shot out a blast of ice, then fire, and then suddenly the behemoth shattered into pieces, scattering across the ground.

Dorian then bolted to his companion, sliding onto his knees and used some form of magic to close the wound, attempting to rouse the other. Iron Bull's name was on his lips repeatedly, terror still rippling through him in hopes to see the other awake.

Finally, finally, The Iron Bull awoke, confused at first until he saw Dorian. Then, the most idiotic grin split the larger man's face, and Dorian barely restrained a groan.

"Seems I should pass out more often, if this is the view I receive afterwards," was the first sentence out of his mouth. Dorian raised his fist, as if to strike him, but decided against it. He'd not noticed the concern yet– or was pretending not to.

"Fasta Vass, Bull!" His voice was harsh, a hissed Tevinter swear slipping from his lips in some form of anger. "You were unconscious. Bleeding! You could have died!"

"Yes, but I didn't. And here we are."

This time, the groan did escape, and Dorian stood, shaking his head and walking away to find Cole and the Inquisitor. A careful glance was shot over his shoulder, however, making sure Bull was steady when he stood, for fear the wound was worse than he'd imagined. And, if he kept Bull's accident a secret, who was Bull to complain.

* * *

><p>––––––––––––––––––––––––––<p>

That night was a different story, however. Dorian, foolishly, had let his guard down. Fucking had turned into some form of lovemaking. It was different from the so many nights before. Normally, they were rough. There was teasing, and then suddenly crashing into each other, rutting blindly until they were exhausted. But tonight was different. It was softer, more caring, and slower. They took their time, Dorian exploring Bull, and Bull letting him, until he was allowed his turn. And, for that matter, Bull was actually allowed a turn to take care of Dorian, to focus solely on Dorian, letting him take as long or as fast as he cared to. That never happened. And Bull had absolutely noticed.

The two of them lay in Iron Bull's bed, exhausted, and close enough for Dorian to feed off the other's warmth, but not close enough for it to be called cuddling. At least, that was what Dorian told himself. Any thoughts like those were cut off, however, once the Qunari began to speak.

"Tonight was…. different," Bull commented, offhandedly, sparring a sideways glance at the mage. His hand absentmindedly scratched at his bare chest, exposed to the elements while Dorian had the blankets up to his neck. There was a hole in the roof. It was cold. He was well within his rights to attempt to stay warm, even if he looked like a petulant child.

"Are you alright?"

Dorian huffed, indignantly, as if offended by the question. His mind, however, was thrown back to months before; when he'd first met the Inquisitor. When he'd watched Iron Bull die for both of them, even when he'd been imprisoned for months. Even though he hardly knew either of them, he'd been willing to sacrifice himself in order for them to live. It was unnerving. He remembered the sight of his body, as well as Cassandra's, past the door. Pale and unmoving, like earlier. The mage shook his head, as if to clear the memories, but that answered the question enough.

Suddenly, he was engulfed in a heat, Bull having moved overtop him and pinning him down. A steady reassurance of the other's presence, for certain. Also, superbly warm. Like a furnace, really. Dorian placed a hand to the other's chest, unsure if it was to push him away or just feel Bull– to know that he was really there. He didn't really get a chance to consider it, however, before the larger man's lips were on his, familiar in their way. A comfort, something safe that he'd gotten to know over the many nights in Skyhold.

After a moment, Iron Bull pulled away, searching Dorian's eyes for something– for anything. Dorian met the gaze almost as if it were a challenge. Like he dared Bull to find something wrong. Their shared glance was far more intense than either of them meant it to be, but then Bull frowned, his features soft, despite it. Like he'd found what he was looking for, and wasn't overly fond of that knowledge.

"…I scared you today. Didn't I?"

Dorian broke the gaze, lips a thin line in annoyance. He hated that Bull could do that– could figure him out so damn easily. That he understood so bloody much without never really needing to ask, and seeing through him like glass. Instead of voicing this, though, he sighed in exasperation.

"You could have died, you complete ass. You were knocked over the head with a fucking boulder, bleeding out on the ground. Head wounds bleed the most." The fact was tacked onto the end of that statement as if in defense; as if it would explain why he'd been worried. It didn't. It instead showed that he knew too much– that as soon as he saw the wound, he'd known he could have lost him. Dorian knew that, as soon as the words slipped past his lips.

"I didn't die, Dorian."

"I know that, you–" aforementioned mage cut himself off, second insult unneeded. "I know that. I can tell." He glance downwards, instead, gaze longer than it should have been, but neither of them complained.

"I just–"

Bull cut him off, huffing out a laugh, incredulous. "I'm not going anywhere, Kadan. I am right here, with you. And as long as you will have me, I will be here."

Dorian's mouth hung open, Iron Bull's words taking him by surprise, and Bull gave him the time he needed to process it. He still loomed, however, arms supporting his weight and holding him up. If he were human, they would undoubtedly be shaking, but he wasn't, thankfully, and he could hold this position for as long as Dorian needed.

Finally, once Dorian's brain finished processing it, he swallowed. Hard. Then asked.

"Kadan?"

"Qunlat. It means my heart." A pause, and then, "so long as you'll allow it?"

Dorian gave no verbal answer, instead moving up to kiss Bull, nipping at his lower lip and wrapping his arms around the other's neck. Then, his hands slid lower, fingernails tracing the curvature of Bull's spine as the Qunari ground downwards, into Dorian. The mage emitted a breathy laugh, meeting the movement with a far too practiced ease, and Bull reached one hand between them to get them off, but Dorian shook his head. Not here. Not now.

So Bull pulled his hand back up, instead holding the mage's face in some soft motion that Dorian didn't want to properly recognize– not yet. He wasn't ready to accept any of this, despite wanting it all, but Iron Bull knew this. Could see it in his face, in his features, so he moved away. Dorian was left with a reminder in the pit of his stomach of the warmth of what was once there, of what had been above him, around him, almost engulfing him, and he sighed contentedly.

Bull huffed out another laugh, and Dorian shot him a glare from the side of his eye before leaning over and resting his arms on his chest, crossed, and craned his neck to place a kiss on the other's lips. Bull met him halfway, and then snaked an arm around Dorian, pulling him closer, forcing any doubt that had previously been in Dorian's mind about the whole cuddling-not-cuddling dilemma.

Then, slowly, the Qunari drifted to sleep, and as did Dorian, but not before listening to the sound of Bull's breath, reassuring himself almost silently that Bull was, in fact, here, earlier conversation aside. The mage found himself at comfort with the world he was currently in. Despite all the shit, despite everything, this, here and now, was what mattered.


End file.
